Daughter of the Dutchman
by LivingInAnotherUniverse
Summary: Calypso is the second child of William Turner. She has always loved the sea; so much so that her father offers to take her on as part of the crew the next time he comes back. Who will she go with, her true love and her mother, or her father and the sea?
1. Names

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, unfortunately. All characters are Disney's, except Calypso. She's mine.

**Daughter of the Dutchman: Names**

_The king and his men  
>Stole the queen from her bed<br>And bound her in her bones_

_The seas be ours  
>And by the powers<br>Where we will, we'll roam_

_Yo-ho  
>all hands<br>Hoist the colors high_

_Heave-ho  
>Thieves and beggars<br>Never shall we die_

The last note faded on my lips as I noticed my mother's face. I looked down at my feet, suddenly ashamed. But she smiled, and sang:

_Yo-ho  
>All hands<br>Hoist the colors high_

_Heave-ho  
>Thieves and beggars<br>Never shall we die_

She wrapped her arms around my slight almost ten year old frame, watching the ocean from our cliff top home. I looked up at her face, and was shocked to find tears on her cheeks.

"Mother?" I asked, worried. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." Elizabeth Swann whispered, patting my hair. "Who taught you that song? I never did."

"Jack did." I stated quietly. "HE said you sang it all the time and that you were a pirate for many years before you met Father."

"Oh, my dear Calypso." She crouched next to me, meeting my eyes. "Jack was right, I was a pirate. And so was your father. We met when I was about your age. He was on a ship that was attacked by pirates, and I was charged with his care when my father rescued him."

I frowned, looking her in the eyes. "Does this story have something to do with the chest you keep in your bedroom?"

My mother glanced out at the ocean. The sun was beginning to set. "All will be explained in time." She smoothed my hair. "It is time for you to sleep."

I pouted, but went inside the cottage my mother kept her herself and her two children; my older brother, Jack, and myself. I looked behind me, and noticed a slight green flash. I shook my head slightly, puzzled, and went inside.

My mother had given me much to ponder, and still she did not divulge the name of my father.


	2. William Turner

I do not own PotC. I own Calypso, though.

**Daughter of the Dutchman: William Turner**

A week later, nine months exactly before my birthday, Mother was anxious. Very anxious, it scared me.

She had refused to answer any of my questions about my father. Jack just smiled, shook his head, and went back to the shop. I pestered her as she cleaned the house. She finally lost her patience with me.

"He's coming soon, and that's all I or your brother will say! Now go weed the garden!"

"I did that yesterday." I look up at her, worried.

"Then go play outside with your friends." She pointed out the front door, but I went through the kitchen to the back. It leads to a trail that took you down the cliff, straight to the ocean. This was where my "friends" where, and where I found solitude and strength.

I guess you could say I've always been a solitary child. I've never had that many friends, due to our house's location. It was three kilometers to the nearest town. I could read and write, but I've never been to school.

I was pale, with skin that refused to darken in the sun. I had the deepest brown eyes, and almost the same color hair. I was tall for my age, and very skinny, no matter how much I ate.

The sea called me, always has. I don't know why, but the idea of sailing appealed to me.

I stayed on the beach for many hours, perched on a rock and watching the waves roll in. High tide was coming, night was falling. The sun touched the water, it seemed, and sank. Farther, farther it went, until the sun was but a sliver on the horizon.

There it was, the green flash I had seen the week before. I blinked, and there was something on the edge, where water met sky. I watched with fascination as it came closer. A ship! What was it doing here, and where did it come from?

Suddenly I heard my mother come down the cliff path I had taken. She stopped next to the rock I was perched on, looking more alive than I had ever seen her. Jack followed, smiling slightly to himself.

A small dingy detached itself from the larger boat. The silhouette of a single man could be seen rowing the boat towards shore.

"Who is that?" I asked Jack, since my mother was probably beyond hearing.

"That is who you've been asking about for the past week, Calypso. Captain William Turner, and our father." The bitterness in his voice surprised me.

"Why are you angry?" I asked, frowning.

"Because, he is cursed. And I don't like the whispers in the village about us. They call us bastard children, because he isn't around. They call mother a slut, no matter the fact she's Mrs. Turner. I have no intention of talking to him."

"Oh." I murmur, after a pause. Jack shook his head, then turned and went back up the cliff path.

I didn't see why he was angry, but perhaps that was because I didn't know what 'bastard' and 'slut' meant. I slid off the rock as the boat hit the shore, and the man, William Turner, jumped out.

He had the same hair color as me, though most of it was covered by a blue bandana wrapped around his forehead. His face had a mustache and a neatly trimmed beard.

Mother stood, a little ways away from him, as he dragged the boat farther up shore and tied it to a rock. I peered around her elbow, watching as he completed a sturdy knot around the rocks.

Only then did he meet my mother's eyes, smiling broadly. She took a step forward, then another, and then they were running toward each other. He caught her in a hug and spun her around. For the first time in my life, I heard my mother laugh. It was cut off as he kissed her.

I felt like I was intruding on something private, but I couldn't take my eyes away. I'd never seen my mother like this.

They broke away from each other, and then held each other close. He stiffened, meeting my eyes over my mother's shoulder.

"And who is this?" He, my father, eased out of my mother's embrace and came toward me. My eyes darted to my mother, then settled on my bare feet.

Rough hands gently forced my head up, and made me meet his eyes. "What's your name, child?" He smiled reassuringly. That smile gave me confidence.

"Calypso." I tilted my head to the side slightly as he released me. "You must be William Turner, whom Jack says is our father."

"Jack? Jack Sparrow?" William glanced at my mother. She shook her head, laughing.

"No, I haven't seen Captain Jack Sparrow in years. That is what he insists on calling himself now. Ever since I told him the stories, he has become … stubborn." Elizabeth ran a hand through her loose brown hair.

"And where is William … Jack … now?" My father asked, looking down the beach.

"Presumably back up to the village." I say quietly. "Jack said he didn't want to talk to you, even see you. Why?"

Elizabeth answered. "Because that is his way."

William just nodded, watching his wife with troubled eyes.

My enthusiasm was not going to be contaminated with my brother's bad manners. "Let's go back to the house!" I grinned, tugging at my father's rough hand. "Come on, come on!"

William laughed and let me lead him to the path up the cliff.

Jack wasn't there when we go to the cottage, but that was to be expected.


	3. Names and Offers

Thank you, The Courage of Our Hearts, for reviewing. Once again, I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. I only wish I did.

**Daughter of the Dutchman: Dreams and Offers**

I woke up the next morning early, heart pounding. I had woken because of my nightmare. None of the others I had had were as vivid as this one.

_I was on a ship. We were being chased by another ship, more run down, but intimidating all the same. Suddenly, the frightening ship disappeared in the ocean. The people around me visibly relaxed. They began to speak, and then yell, but I couldn't hear them. I couldn't see their faces either; only the faces of my mother and father were there. People began to scurry around, readying cannons. _

_I peered over the edge of the prow, and then jerked back. My dream had taken a deadly turn._

_Tentacles many feet in circumference snaked their way up the sides of the ship. The cannons fired; the tentacles writhed, shedding blood on the deck. The giant creature wrecked havoc; destroying the ship and killing the crew. _

_Only a few survived, including my parents. I went to hug them, but they walked right through me. It was then I knew it to be a dream. _

_They abandoned ship, all but tow. My mother, and another man, dressed in a worn coat and hat. A red bandana covered his forehead; his hair was strewn with trinkets and jewelry. My father boarded the dingy that was salting below. As he stepped on the ladder, my mother kissed the red bandanaed man. She stepped back, and the man found his hand to shackled to the capstan. _

_Elizabeth smiled slightly, then got off the ship into the dingy. I knew William had seen – his eyes had widened when she had kissed the other man. _

_I was tempted to follow my parents, but I knew they lived. So I watched the man my mother just kissed as he tried to get out of the shackle. I couldn't help it – he was fascinating. _

_The little dingy sailed away until it was a small speck against the background of the island. The creature rose out of the depths, its maw opening wide. Four rows of sharpened teeth extended towards the man, like a hug given to a friend. _

I woke up with a jolt, sitting upright with a strangled cry. The sun was peeking through the shutters.

I quickly got dressed and crept out of the house. I breathed in the crisp morning air, trying to steady and calm myself. I went down the path to the beach, then let the water lap at my ankles.

"Calypso," my father's warm voice said from behind me. "Why are you down here so early?"

I didn't look behind me, considering his question. I decided to tell him the truth. "I had a bad dream."

"What was it about?"

I quickly told him the bare details, including my mother's betrayal. My feet were numb, so I came back onto the beach, sitting next to my father. He stayed silent for a long time, his brow furrowed with concentration.

He suddenly began to laugh, quietly, but for a long time. I looked at him with astonishment.

"It seems to me that your namesake has sent you a vision. I've had a word with her, she admits to it."

"Who is she?" I asked.

"The sea goddess. Captured by the first pirate lords, and bound in human form. She stayed that was for almost a hundred years."

"What happened?" I asked, ever eager for a story.

"Calypso was released, and help us pirates preserve our way of life."

"Tell me, tell me!" My eyes were eager.

So my father sighed, but smiled, and began his story. It took a while, but by the time Elizabeth called down to us for breakfast, he had finished. The ending was sweet, and I finally knew the name of my mystery man with the red bandana.

Captain Jack Sparrow. Dead, and come back to life, through my parents efforts.

"Calypso, I've been meaning to ask you something." William said as we climbed the path up the cliff.

"Yes?"

"Would you be interested, the next time I come … I know how you love the sea, that you love the sea-"

"Yes?" I prodded.

"Do you want to come with me, the next time I come? To be part of the crew?" He glanced at me from the corner of his eyes. "I would understand if you didm't-"

I couldn't help but smile. "I'll be waiting."

He smiled, a true, genuine smile. I smiled back, then we laughed, and laughed, and laughed, until Elizabeth asked why we were laughing.

We didn't tell her. And Jack hadn't come back yet.


	4. Questions, Confrontations, and Death

**Daughter of the Dutchman: Questions, Confrontations, and Death**

My father's offer began to plague my mind as the day went on. One side of me asked: was it smart? What would mother think? Or Jack? What if I didn't want to go when he came back, in ten years? What if I turned out to be bitter, like Jack, about him not being there? What if, what if, what if ….

The other said: of course it's smart. Mother won't care by then, Jack won't either. You'll cross that bridge when it shows up.

All throughout my internal interrogation, my mother was happier than ever. She talked, for hours it seemed. She smiled more in an hour then I had ever remembered her. I could count on one hand the number of times she really let herself laugh before he came.

I wished he wouldn't leave. I loved watching my mother be truly happy.

And I knew it would pass almost as soon as he left.

One really embarrassing story was about how I had gone a whole day wearing a powdered wig I had "borrowed" from the local courthouse when I was five. My father was tousling my hair when Jack stormed into the house.

"Don't. Touch. Her." Jack's eyes narrowed as he glared at Father.

Father looked at Jack with a blank face that said nothing. He slid his hand down the back of my neck and around my waist. "Why shouldn't I?" He asked evenly. "Calypso is my daughter."

"Because you don't have the right. Because you don't belong here. Because you are nothing, just a filthy pirate!"

Mother was a pirate too, I wanted to add, but I felt it wasn't necessary. Jack knew, but was ignoring it.

Father sighed, ran a hand through his curly black hair (his bandana left on the floor in my mother's bedroom), and stood up slowly.

He met his son's eyes with tired acceptance. "William."

"My name is not William!" Jack almost shouted.

"Yes it is! And the man you took the name Jack from is also a famous pirate. How can you call us 'filthy'?" my mother interjected, still sitting at the table.

Father had leaned against the window frame, watching the gulls circle over the sea. "Most of the Earth is water," he said patiently, as if nothing had been said. "The ocean is a dangerous place, yet we have to cross it sometimes. Odds are you'll die at sea."

I frowned; I didn't like the idea of drowning.

"And whose job will it be to ferry your soul to the other side? For now, me. I don't know who will be next. I probably don't want to know." He whispered these last sentences: "I just don't want to live without your mother. A world without her is not worth living in."

Jack was silent for a long time. I stared at him accusingly, angry that he had ruined everyone's good mood. Mother joined Father at the window after a few minutes of silence.

Jack scowled, muttered something under his breath to the effect of: "Go to hell", and left, banging the door behind him.

We all sighed in unison. Then we laughed at it, and started talking again. But Jack's evil thoughts poisoned every thought, every action, every word.

The noon bell rung from the church in the village. He had eight hours left.


	5. Calypso and Calypso

As a mental note, when Calypso (the goddess) starts talking, the "d"s are "th"s; there's a lot of emphasis on "u" sounds and all the "t"s. I apologize if the goddess Calypso doesn't sound like the Calypso in the movies, but she's just such a hard character to write!

I also want to thank The Courage Of Our Hearts for your ever present reviews.

**Daughter of the Dutchman: Calypso and Calypso**

Time seemed to rush by as the day went on. The bells rung faster, it seemed, so that every few minutes another hour had passed.

There it was, the third bell of the afternoon.

Mother asked me to start making dinner. Then she and my father disappeared out the back door.

I scowled at the floor. I had just met him, and already she was taking him away. I shook my head, laughing at myself. He's her husband, after all. They deserve some time together, alone, without me to pester them.

I went to the well outside, intending to get water for stew. It was the only thing I knew how to make that was edible. Anything else ended up burned.

Just as I was about to pour the water from the bucket into the pot, someone tapped my shoulder lightly. I jumped, and let go of the bucket. Down it went, unchecked, back into the well. I spun around, and did not like what I saw.

A woman in a tattered, faded, sleeveless yellow dress smiled slightly. Her hair was in dreadlocks, most secured on her head with bone pins. Her lips and teeth were stained blacker then her skin. Her eyes were rimmed with many layers of black kohl. Tiny black tattoos formed rows on her cheekbones and chin. Around her neck hung several bead necklaces. Her bare arms showed strong and capable muscles that writhed under her dark skin as she hugged herself.

"Who're you?" I asked, forgetting everything that I should have been doing.

She laughed, throwing back her head. "Me?" she asked, with the strangest accent. "You do not know me?" She emphasized many of the consonants, where the vowels should have been stressed. It was very strange,

I shook my head warily, frowning. "Not at all, ma'am."

"I is your … namesake." Her brown eyes were full of mirth.

"Calypso …" I breathed, eyes wide in wonderment. "The sea goddess, the one who sent me the dream I had last night."

"Aye, Calypso. 'Twas me dat sent you dat vision of your moders betrayal. Did you enjoy it?"

I shook my head quickly, and then turned away, grabbing the crank to the well bucket. Calypso laughed, and then settled herself on the edge of the well shaft, fingering one of her necklaces. It was silver in the shape of a heart, with a bearded face and two upraised crab claws engraved on the cover.

"You cannot escape me." Calypso murmured in my ear. I made the mistake of breathing through my nose. Salt water and seaweed. Not very agreeable to my stomach.

"But I can try." I whispered, working on the crank again.

The goddess laughed again. "You don't … understand." She said, suddenly serious. "We are … bound … togeder, like ships are to water."

I frowned, thinking. "Ships are built on land, ma'am."

"Den ye are de ship, an' I de sea. We be inseparable, once you are out of de 'arbor."

It made sense, sort of. But that didn't mean I liked it.

"I have to get this finished, ma'am. If you'll excuse me …" I poured the water into the pot and turned to go inside.

"Calypso," she murmured softly. "I be back soon. You might learn sommat from my visits."

I looked behind me, fully intending to tell her never to come again. But she wasn't there.

A small sea breeze picked up my hair. I could have sworn I heard her laughter in the wind. Then it was gone.


	6. Gone For Now

YAY! Two chapters in one night … I feel accomplished!

**Daughter of the Dutchman: Gone. For Now**

The stew was finished. To me, it was the best I've ever made. And my parents agreed.

Their smiles made me forget Calypso's visit and her warning. She frightened me more than Jack's friends from the village, and they were the ones …

Best not think of that. Better to forget, let it fade. It makes me shiver just to think of it.

I glanced out at the horizon as I cleaned my bowl. The sun was fading, and with it, time. Time with my father.

I went back inside and replaced the bowl on its shelf. The stew I left over the embers of the fire; Jack would be hungry when he came back. My parents went outside to clean their bowls, leaving me alone.

On some mad impulse, I went to Jack's room and opened the door a crack. I didn't expect to see anything.

Until something thumped into the doorjamb just inches from my nose. A quivering dagger was stuck in the wood.

"Jack?" I asked, opening the door wider by a fraction. "Please don't kill me Jack."

"Calypso? Aren't you supposed to be doting on your father like a good girl?" Jack asked scathingly.

I scrambled for an answer. "I thought you might be hungry." I opened the door, then closed it behind me. "I made stew." I yanked the dagger out of the wood. Simply made, the blade was thin with relentless sharpening. The harsh wooden handle was blackened, and fit in my palm almost perfectly. "If you want some." I added, not meeting his eyes.

Jack lounged on his small bed, a maniac smile on his lips. "I'll get some later. And don't even think of telling Mother I've been here all day, listening. She won't like that."

I nodded and placed the knife on his bedside table. Then I left. I quickly closed the door when my parents noticed whose room I had come out of.

"Calypso?" My mother smiled from the doorway to the back door. The sun disappeared under the cliff, leaving the house in shadow. "Is he there?"

I shook my head slowly. "Why does Jack hate you so?" I asked, meeting my father's eyes.

He shook his head sadly, but smiled slightly. "I don't know. He wasn't always like this. But his choices are his own; I can do nothing to change it if he insists on staying away." He shrugged, then looked at the sun and cursed.

It was a word I didn't know, but I repeated it ten times to myself to memorize it. It sounded useful.

"William!" My mother scolded. He just laughed, and she muttered: "Never mind me. I'm just a mother, trying to protect the ears of my only daughter."

"She'll learn eventually," my father muttered, smiling. "As you did, and I did, and everyone did. It comes from growing up."

Father looked at the horizon and cursed again. "It's time." He turned to my mother and held out his hand. She took it, and then reached back for mine. I shook my head, and took my father's free hand.

Father smiled wryly. "Lead the way, niña."

I lead the way down the cliff path, puzzling over the new word. "What does ne-ninya mean?" I asked, struggling with the unfamiliar sound.

"It's Spanish for 'Little girl'." My father answered with a smile. "You are my little girl, niña. Always will be."

We got on the beach as the sun began to sink into the waves. It was a replay of last night, but all the action was backward. Father hugged me first, and then kissed my mother. He turned away, then worked on the knot that held the dingy in place through the night. My mother ran, and kissed my father again.

I clambered on top of the rock I had last night, watching my parents and the sinking sun at the same time.

"Ten years …" My mother started to cry, holding on to him. "It's too long!"

"It'll be over before you know it." Father said, holding her in one arm and the boat's rope in the other. "I have to go, Elizabeth. Now." He peeled her arms off his torso, then stepped into the waves.

"Be strong, my love. Keep a weather eye on the horizon …" He glanced at me, eyes sadder then sad. "Both of you."

With that, he got into the little boat and began to row. Mother started to cry harder, tears pouring down her cheeks like a rainstorm. I let a tear go, but I couldn't let go of all the sadness I felt with salt water on my cheeks.

"Calypso!" He suddenly called, about twenty-five feet out from the shore. "Remember what I offered you! And remember the dreams!"

The wind blew the rest of his words away as he got farther from shore. But a familiar voice I had heard not long ago whispered:

"He said, 'And go wid my love, my niña. Love wid all your heart, for widout it, life holds noding for you.'"

Together, my mother and I comforted each other on the beach.

A flash of green, and he was gone. For now.


	7. Losses and Gains

Many thanks to my reviewers! As a sort of side note, I do allow Anonymous Reviews. I want to hear your thought! But if you spam my story … I will not be happy …

Enjoy! :-)

**Daughter of the Dutchman: Losses and Gains**

Mother and I stayed on the beach for a long time.

Slowly her sobs turned to quiet tears, and then those tears turned into sniffles. By that time, the only thing that shed light was the full moon and the stars.

"Come on, Mother." I gently slid out of her embrace and slid down the smooth rock. She kept holding my hand, but could not take her eyes off the rolling waves. High tide was coming.

I tugged gently on her arm – she followed willingly, unprotesting. As we neared the beginning of the path up the cliff, she took more control over herself. She turned her back to the ocean and faced land. And all the responsibilities it brought.

We got closer to the house and I remembered Jack in his room. "Mother …" I said slowly, warning in my voice.

"Not now, Calypso." Mother said impatiently. "Whatever it is can wait until morning. I want to go to bed."

"No, Mother! This can't wait! It's-!"

Mother stepped inside and stopped suddenly. I almost ran into her. Peering around her arm, I saw Jack sitting at the table, the remnants of a bowl of stew at his lips. He did not notice us until he lowered the bowl and belched quietly.

"WILLIAM TURNER! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE-"

I lost track of the argument after that. I was busy rescuing the stew from being burnt from the newly kindled fire.

The basis of Mother yelling, as far as I could tell, was something to the effect of rudeness to our father, even if Jack did not acknowledge him as his own, while Father was here.

And Jack just sat there, his head in one hand, staring off into is won world while Mother yelled. I took his dirty bowl and went outside to clean it.

"WHAT!" My mother's voice rang out. "You're WHAT?" You're getting MARRIED? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

I dropped the bowl in the grass and ran inside. The strangest sight assailed my eyes.

Mother was hugging Jack. "It's about time," my mother whispered.

Jack met my eyes over our mother's shoulder, a pleading expression plastered on his face.

"Help me!" He mouthed.

I couldn't help but laugh.


	8. Birthday's and Weddings

Ahh! I actually had to do RESEARCH for this one!

Of course, anything for my loyal reviewer … I had actually hoped to make that plural … so please please please review! I'm begging you!

Disclaimer: I don't own PotC or any scenes mentioned.

**Daughter of the Dutchman: Birthday's and Weddings **

Jack and Angelica kissed. Tearful eyes and smiling faces were all around me. I turned to my mother and asked quietly:

"Was your wedding like this?"

I knew from her eyes I should not have asked. They flashed with sadness and despair. She just shook her head, and went to talk with some old women that usually bought her sewing.

I sighed. Jack couldn't have picked ANY other day. But no, I thought as I picked my way through the crowd. He just HAS to get married on MY birthday!

Sure, his had been a week before, but … still.

I mean it was a beautiful day. The sun was out, not a cloud in the sky. Moderate temperature – not hot enough to make the bride uncomfortable during her outdoor wedding, of course.

The whole town was there; at least, those who could make it. The blacksmith was a wealthy man. Angelica came with a large dowry – enough to start them out in a comfortable house with plenty of whatever they needed.

My eyes light up at the sight of the mountain of food. Fresh meat, pies, my gardens many vegetables (our small contribution), candied fruit and marzipan. And a large cake, covered in white icing.

But before I could eat, I knew, I had to congratulate my brother and new sister.

Jack looked better than normal. A dark blue jacket, with gold braid trims, over a light blue vest over a white shirt. Dark trousers with long, knee-high socks. Black shoes with shiny brass buckles. It was the best he looked in my memory, which may or may not be a good thing.

Angelica was beautiful. Her dress was silk, bronze overdress and a white under dress. The under dress was embroidered with multicolored beads. A sheer white veil covered her red hair, which tumbled down her back in loose curls.

I smiled at the sight of them, but Mother's look resonated in my mood. It did not help that my birthday was not being celebrated in its usual fashion. I was like the tides … they come regularly, and are always the same. I liked things in their usual place.

"Calypso!" Angelica's voice rang out, beaming. She bent down slightly as we hugged. "I was hoping to see you!"

I hugged her back, wary of the careful embroidery on her bodice. "I'm here." I murmured, smiling. "No need to shout."

"But there is reason to shout. It's the best day of my life, and should be celebrated as such. I'll celebrate too when you get married."

I wanted to tell her that I wouldn't be getting married; I'd be on the sea with my father, enjoying life on the sea to its fullest.

"I'd like that." I smiled up at her.

"Calypso." Jack grinned like a fool. "Come, take a walk with me." I nodded, a frown creasing my forehead. He offered his hand, and I took it. He led me to the edge of the feast, silent.

"Calypso." He repeated, staring of into the distance. He did not speak for a few minutes.

"Yes?" I asked, impatient. I wanted to eat!

"A bad turn deserves a good one, don't you think?" He scowled. "I almost killed you a few months ago."

I did not answer, instead trying to find what he was looking for.

Jack pulled something out of his pocket, something small. Wrapped in brown cheese cloth and twine, it was about the length on my hand.

I pulled on the twine bow. The cheese cloth fell away, revealing a knife. It was the knife that had been lodged in Jack's doorframe. The wooden hilt was blackened with aged, as was the blade itself.

Jack sighed, pulling at his collar. "Father gave that to me, the day he came back ten years ago. He said it was his fathers, and that I should have it." He crouched next to me, meeting my eyes. "But it is not mine to have. You have a better claim to then I. Happy Birthday, Calypso."

I tucked the knife in my boots – I had refused to wear slippers like a proper lady – and grinned up at him. "Thank you Jack."

_**~*~The Dutchman~*~**_

I fell asleep, my stomach full of marvelous foods. I wondered why people didn't have weddings more often.

_Calypso's face swam before me, smiling. "You axed what your moders wedding was like. Sall I sow you?_

_I did not have time to answer before she launched into the newest vision:_

_My mother knelt in the rain. Her dress reminded me of Angelica's: bronze silk with patterns. A sheer white veil covered her unbound hair. She was alone. _

_She glanced behind her. Rows of soldiers in bright red and white uniforms stood at attention. My father, looking like Jack had earlier for his wedding, was walking in with the soldiers._

_In shackles._

_My mother ran to the rows of soldiers. "Will." She breathed. "Why is this happening?"_

"_I don't know." He shook his head helplessly. "You look beautiful."_

_Mother smoothed a wrinkle in his coat. "I think its bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding," she murmured, tears in her eyes. Or maybe it was the rain._

_A man with a long, curly, grey wig tried to make his way through the ranks of soldiers. "Make way; let me through!" He exclaimed. Two men with pikes stopped his way. "How dare you! Stand your men down at once! Do you hear me?" The wigged man commanded._

_A man in a black cloak turned to face him. "Governor Weatherby Swann, It's been too long."_

"_Cutler Beckett?"_

"_It's 'Lord' now, actually." Lord Beckett smiled. The pike men let Governor Swann through._

"_Lord or not, you have no reason and no authority to arrest this man!"_

"_In fact, I do." Beckett said wryly. "Mr. Merser." A hard, old man with unadorned clothes stepped forward with a leather case. He opened it, rifling through some papers. Beckett handed one to Governor Swann._

"_The warrant for the arrest of one William Turner."_

_The Governor read it with a sigh. "This warrant is for Elizabeth Swann!"_

"_Oh, is it? That's annoying. My mistake. Arrest her."_

"_On what charges?" My mother exclaimed as she was seized by the soldiers around her. "No!" My father struggled against his captors. _

"_Ah! Here's the one for William Turner." Beckett handed over that paper with satisfaction. "And I have another one for a Mr. James Norrington." He raised the paper above his head, waving it around. "Is he present?"_

"_What are the charges!" my mother repeated as she was shackled._

"_Commodore Norrington resigned his post some months ago." My grandfather said. _

"_I don't believe that to be the answer to my question." Beckett said calmly. _

"_Lord Beckett!" My father said. "In the category of questions not answered-"_

"_We are under the jurisdiction of the Kings Governor of Port Royal and you will tell us what we are charged with." My mother said, malice threaded through her voice._

"_The charge," Governor Swann grimaced. "Is conspiring to set free a man convicted of crimes against the crown and Empire, and condemned to death, for which the pun- puni-" He stumbled._

"_For which the punishment is, regrettably, also death. Perhaps you remember a certain pirate named Jack Sparrow?"_

"_Captain." My parents spat out in unison. _

"_Captain Jack Sparrow." My mother said with defiance after a pause._

"_Captain Jack Sparrow." Beckett repeated with satisfaction. "Yes, I thought you might."_

_Calypso's face again swam before me. "Dat was deir firs' attempt. Dis is de second, an' last, a few years lader." She faded, and a new vision besieged my dreams._

_Humanoid figures boarded a boat with black sails. Rain poured, soaking everyone. I stood in the middle of the deck, watching as my parents fought these things. _

"_Elizabeth!" My father bellowed, fighting through two monsters. "Elizabeth!" He grabbed my mother's arm as she looked for another enemy. People and monsters were dying everywhere. A Chinese man fell through me to land on the deck, dead. _

_I moved closer to my parents._

"_Will you marry me?" Father asked. Mother opened her mouth in shock, then they both broke away to fight again. _

"_I don't think now's the best time!" My mother exclaimed._

_He didn't answer, just kept fighting. In a small lull, he gasped: "Now may be the ONLY time!" They grabbed each other's arms, their heads almost touching. _

"_I love you," he murmured. "I've made my choice. What's yours?"_

_Elizabeth smiled, and then shouted to the tiller: "Barbossa!" My father's face scrunched up in confusion. My dream self blinked in shock. "Marry us!"_

"_I'm a little busy at the moment!" a man in a floppy hat shouted back. I presumed that was Barbossa._

"_Barbossa, now!" my father shouted, before taking on another enemy. The monster died._

"_Fine, then." Barbossa said. He clambered up on a box on the high deck, in front of the tiller, fighting monsters the entire way. My parents clasped hands and looked up at Barbossa._

"_Dearly beloved, we be gathered here today … to nail your gizzards to the mast, you poxy cur!" He kicked some humanoid in the face. My mother frowned, and then ducked._

_My parents fought their way back to each other, cutting down whatever humans and monsters where in their path. "Elizabeth Swann, do you take me to be your husband?"_

"_I do!" My mother gasped out. _

_Father looked surprised. "Great!" They broke off, moving quickly across the deck. Their hands met again. _

"_Will Turner, do you take me …" More fighting, hands still together. "… To be your wife …" More fighting, swords clashing together against the monstrous things. "… In sickness and in health …" Even more fighting. "With health being the less likely!"_

_And there was even more fighting._

"_I do." Father smiled. _

"_As captain, I now pronounce you …" Barbossa shouted from across the deck. My parents and Barbossa continued to fight. "You may kiss-" Barbossa shoots a soldier and laughs._

_My parents try to kiss, water streaming down their faces, but were rudely interrupted by a soldier. My father took care of him._

"_You may kiss-" Barbossa tried again. "Just kiss!" He shouted in exasperation._

_So they kissed in the midst of a battle, the rain pouring down their faces. _

_The vision faded, leaving Calypso's sad brown face staring at me."You see? Destiny 'ad its way wid your parents. Love was dere's, but fate … could not 'ave stopped wid just med'ling." She twisted her mouth in a wry smile. "Fate 'ad to sepatae dem so soon a'ter deir union."_

With those words heavy on my mind, I woke. The morning sun shone, warm, through my curtains.

And yet, I shivered.


	9. The Other Jack and My Mother's Treasure

**Daughter of the Dutchman: The Other Jack and My Mother's Treasure**

The highlight of my early teenage life was another visitor from the sea. This one less expected then the others.

Captain Jack Sparrow was a very random man.

Mother and I had been living alone for the past four years. Jack and Angelica had a child, a boy. My mother hoped that Jack would name him William, but it was not to be. The child's name was Edward, after Angelica's father.

That morning was like any other: I woke up, ate, and did my chores. Then I went to the beach. But that morning a ship came around the cove. A ship with black sails.

Of course I recognized it. Mother spoke of it once, and I had seen it many times in my dreams. It seemed to be a major part of my parents past. It was the Black Pearl, and she was magnificent.

Like the last time a ship sailed into our harbor, I did not move. Like last time, my mother came down the cliff. Like last time, she stood with me as a dingy detached itself from the black ship.

Unlike last time, she was not smiling.

The dingy landed, a single man sitting in it. A worn out, tri-corn hat covered his head and most of the patterned red bandanna that held his dreadlocked hair back. Trinkets and beads peeked out from underneath his hat, attached to his hair. His knee length jacket looked like it had seen better days, as did his white shirt, blue vest, and black breeches. His brown boots were worn out as well, but were still serviceable.

He carried a sword, a knife, and at least three guns that were visible. Others were there, for certain, but that was to be expected from a pirate. And a pirate he was.

"Ah, Elizabeth!" He grinned, revealing several gold teeth. "Long time, not enough seeing, eh?"

I kept my mouth shut, my face schooled in a mask of indifference. My brother had taught me to use that well; Angelica infuriated me for no apparent reason other than the fact she took my brother away.

"Jaaaaack." My mother drew out the "a" longer than normal. "What could possibly possess you to come here?"

Jack Sparrow chuckled. "A couple of mermaids on the beach, of course. Who is this bonny lass I should be knowing?" He jerked his head in my direction, where I was sitting on a boulder. I stiffened, but my mother just shook her head.

"This is Calypso, my daughter."

At this, Jack Sparrow raised an eyebrow. "And how is the William?" I felt like he had said these words before. Maybe Calypso had mentioned it in a dream? There had been so many over the years ...

"Alive." My mother said scathingly. "You would see him more often, Jack." She turned and began to walk up the cliff path. I could tell she was trying to hide the tears that any mention of Father brought up.

I had ceased asking long ago; the sea was information enough, and more freely given.

I glared at the Captain, shook my head slightly, and then followed her up the cliff.

And the stupid Sparrow followed. He had this odd way of walking, hands never idle, feet alternating between large strides and small shuffles.

I hoped he fell off the cliff. But, alas! He did not, instead inviting himself into our cottage and sitting at our table, his feet propped up. He just smiled.

_Don__'__t__ boder__ being __angry __wid __Captain__ Jack __Sparrow,_ Calypso's voice whispered. _He __is__ not __word __your __time._

I rolled my eyes, and went to find my mother.

_**~*~The Dutchman~*~**_

He stayed with us for the night, talking all the while to my mother about people she knew that I did not.

I had found her in her bedroom, crying. She hugged the iron-bound chest in her arms, her ear pressed against the top. I finally convinced her to come out again and be a hostess, even if he was a pirate that had inadvertently hurt her.

It was the first time I had had an opportunity to look at it closely, much less touch it. The chest she left on the bed, so I went to put it away, where it usually was. I almost dropped it when I felt a _thump-thump_ from inside. It repeated itself after a pause, like a heartbeat.

_It__ is__ your __faders __heart._ Calypso murmured.

_Literally?_ I had to ask, but did so silently. She always managed to hear.

_Yes. Bootstrap Bill Turner, your grandfather, cut out your fader's heart and made him de Captain of de Flying Dutchman._

I could feel the color draining from my face. That was … barbaric.

_I__ know.__You__ '__ave __Davey __Jones __to __dank __for__ dat.__ He __cut __out__ '__is __own __heart __because __de__ woman __he__ loved __was __not __dere._ Calypso chuckled softly.

_Who__ was __she?_I asked, hesitating.

_Who else, but de sea?_

My hands shook as I put the chest away, under my mother's bed.

And I cursed her, the sea goddess, for cursing my father, albeit in a roundabout manner. I cursed her for plaguing me with these dreams for the past four years. I cursed her for bringing up the past.

I cursed my father for not being here when I needed him the most. I cursed my mother for not being able to understand me. I cursed my brother, because I finally understood his hate.

But most of all, I cursed myself. For loving my family. For understanding their pain. For wanting a normal life.

For loving the sea.

But in the end, there was nothing I could do. Those curses fell on the wind and were swept away, leaving me drained of my anger and hurt.

I felt empty. Alone.

Now I was the one sitting on my mother's bed, on top of my father's heart, crying my eyes out like a child.

Alone.


	10. Meetings

I apologize for the mass confusion as I had to delete and reload the previous chapter 3 times just to get it right. For whatever reason, decided to sting the goddesses thoughts into one word … which makes no sense, of course. It should be fixed now …

Anyway, on with more Captain Jack Sparrow!

**Daughter of the Dutchman: Meetings**

Jack Sparrow was an impertinent, self absorbed tick in my eyes.

Mother disagreed.

_She dought dat she loved 'im. _Calypso could help but add.

I ignored her, listening to the ticks stories like a good hostess should. It did not mean that I liked them.

"And Blackbeard died." Jack shrugged. "Syrena and Philip escaped to some place unknown, and my dear Angelica sailed off in her father's ship. I haven't seen her since."

Mother put her head in her hands and sighed. "Congratulations. My adventures are not in the least interesting, but probably just as hard."

I straightened, cleared my throat self-consciously, and put a bowl of fruit on the table. Maybe I slammed it, I don't know. I can't remember. I was out the door in record time.

But I did not go down to the beach, where I knew Mother would think I was.

I started on the road to town.

It had been four years since I saw my father. My life had changed so much since then. I had a goddess that couldn't stay quiet, a married brother with a newborn child, a sister-in-law that didn't like me, and my father's heart was not where it was supposed to be.

What was wrong with the world?

I went to Jacks house, near the market. I hadn't seen them since the child was born. A healthy boy.

George.

From all accounts, he was a beautiful baby, with thick brown hair and light brown eyes. But I didn't know. I hadn't seen him since he was born. Angelica wouldn't let me.

I didn't understand why.

I knocked on the door to their new house, ignoring the stares from across the street. Angelica answered, George on her hip.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, not unkindly.

"Is Jack here?" I answered with a question.

"Jack!" Angelica called, sneering down her nose at me. "You're sister's here."

"Coming!" came Jack's voice from inside. A minute later, he appeared in the doorway, a smile on his face and his arm around his wife. They had been married for four years now. I sighed internally. They still acted like newly weds.

"Can I talk to you, Jack? Alone?" I murmured.

"Sure." Jack kissed Angelica quickly and followed me.

I went to the edge of town silently. Encroaching woods shadowed us from the mid-day sun. I breathed deeply, closing my eyes. The shade felt as cool as sea spay, but less wet.

"Why does she hate me, Jack?" I whispered, not facing him.

"She just doesn't understand you. You're different then most girls your age," he answered quietly.

"Right. Because most girls spend their afternoons gossiping with each other and flirting with boys they can never marry without their parents permission instead of using their minds and figuring out how to keep their mothers out of their heads!" I was yelling at the end, annoyed. It felt good to get that off my chest.

For a fourteen year old, I was stressing way to much. Calypso said I would go prematurely grey if I kept this up.

"Mother isn't respecting you?" Jack asked, frowning.

"Yes!" I smiled. "Finally, someone understands! And she tells me that I shouldn't talk about Father because she doesn't want to talk about it and then she starts crying if I do. I don't think she'll ever let me get married, for fear of me LEAVING! She doesn't understand that I'm a growing woman and that I have my own mind. That no matter what she does, I'm different then her and I have very different priorities!"

Jack was silent for a long time. "It that all you wanted to tell me? Otherwise, I'm gone." He turned to leave.

"No Jack!" I grabbed his arm, tugging him back. "There's someone at Mother's house you might want to meet." I said breathlessly.

"Who?"

"A man who you admire greatly. You make everybody call you by his name now, because you admire him more then the man I call my father." I wink, pleased with my crypticness.

"Jack Sparrow." Jack breathed.

"Captain." I automatically corrected him, four years of him being a central part of my dreams catching up with me.

I could see he was sorely tempted. His face was often an open book, especially when there was something that he wanted. But he shook his head.

"I can't Calypso. I want to, but I can't. I'm already late to work at the blacksmith's."

I nodded. "Come when you can. Mother wants to see you."

He hugged me goodbye.

I realized that my head fit under his chin - I was getting tall. I had always been tall, but recently I had sprouted up faster then the weeds in my garden. I was gangly and awkward in my own skin. All knees and elbows, it seemed. And I was still skinnier than a rowboat's oars.

It was annoying.

"I'll see you later, I guess," he nodded, then left they way we came. I stared after him, realizing something.

Jack and I had been really close before he married Angelica. Now, she had taken him from me.

I could no longer trust him. I didn't want to see him as often as I should. Angelica scared me too much to stay in town for anymore then I had to.

I began walking slowly home, not noticing the boy that sat on the fence of a neighboring farm.

That boy would change my life; throw all my pervious assumptions to the wind. He would teach me that ones heart needed as much care as the mind and body.

He would teach me how to love.

His name was Michael.


	11. Michael

**Daughter of the Dutchman: Michael**

Love for another person had been an abstract concept for a long time. I couldn't help it – I was convinced that I could never love. I didn't want to put down roots that deep, not when I would uproot everything to be with my father for at least ten years.

To be with the constant sea that I loved, not a human boy.

But here I was, fifteen, lying on the beach near my house with the two things I loved near me.

Michael and the sea.

"What are you thinking of?" he asked, smiling.

I blushed, staring at the clouds. They were like cotton, pure, white, and fluffy. "Clouds." I whispered. It was a lie.

His face appeared over me, blocking my view of the clouds. His dark eyebrows were raised over merry green eyes. Long light brown hair tumbled over his shoulders. Years of work on his family's farm had given him a well-muscled frame. He was tall, taller then me by about a foot.

"I know that look on your face, Calypso," Michael whispered. "What are you really thinking of?"

I chuckled and pushed him away, sitting up. He carelessly slung his arm over my shoulders. I leaned into his shoulder, watching the tide come in. We stayed silent for a long time.

"Calypso!" My mother called from the top of the cliff. I jumped and shrugged out of his embrace.

"Coming!" I called, and then sighed.

"Will she let me stay?" Michael asked, a wicked glint in his eyes.

I grinned, my heart soaring. "Not for the night…." He laughed, winking.

"One day, Calypso. One day."

**~*~The Dutchman~*~**

I lay in my own bed that night, thinking about Michael.

_Calypso. _Her voice sounded in my overactive mind. _We need to talk._

_What of? _ I asked silently, smiling to myself.

_Love._

I sighed, rolled over, and closed my eyes. This was just too awkward. _Please, Calypso, not now. Any other time, not now._

_No. Dat you love is not my concern, only what will come of it._

_Oh? I'm not like you, Calypso. I'm not going to abandon him, like you did to Davey Jones. _

_Is my nature! _ She sounded angry. Very angry.

_Sure. _I sighed. _We'll go with that._

She subsided, muttering to herself in a seemingly foreign language. But she was still there, listening to my thoughts. Eventually, though, I fell asleep.


	12. Confusion and Decisions

**Daughter of the Dutchman: Confusion and Decisions**

I sat at the edge of my world - the boulder from which I had first seen my father – alone with only my thoughts.

Thankfully my mother approved of Michael. Calypso did as well, but she was wary. She didn't want me to be unhappy, and she feared that I would be when I would be leaving in two years.

Neither my mother nor Michael knew what I was planning. What I had promised my father I would do. I don't break my promises easily, but Michael was getting pushy.

Neither of us were getting any younger, and his parents were pushing him to settle down and get married. Michael was anxious, unsure of himself and what he wanted. Confused.

And now I didn't know what I wanted. I had a few choices, but they were all hard decisions and all were life changing.

I could leave Michael, tearing my heart in half but being with my father and the sea.

I could stay with Michael, married and happy with small children to raise. I could stay with my mother and brother and his children and Michael….

I could turn my back on both Michael and the oceans, instead going inland and becoming a nun. I shuddered at the thought of being alone, and discarded that thought almost immediately.

Michael? Or my father and the sea?

I couldn't decide, and now was the time to make that decision that I had put off for the past two years.

Michael? The ocean? My mother? My father? Adventure? Children? What did I want the most?

"I don't know what I want." I whispered, frowning. The thought was a scary one.

_**~*~The Dutchman~*~**_

Weeks passed, and my eighteenth birthday came. Michael had been looking like he wanted to tell me something, but couldn't quite find the time or place to say it.

My birthday dinner was like any other day, with stew and bread. In fact, it seemed like I was the only one to remember that it was my birthday.

"Michael?" I asked after dinner was finished and the dishes put away.

"Hmm?"

"You've got something on the end of your tongue that you've been wanting to say for a while now." I stated, not looking at him.

I could feel Michael's green eyes on my back. "Calypso …" he started, hesitant. I said nothing, content to let him speak when he was ready.

"Calypso Elizabeth Turner, will you marry me?" he said quickly, throwing the words between us.

I turned around, meeting his anxious green eyes.

I couldn't put this decision off any longer. I was eighteen, in love, and confused beyond any imagination.

"I-I-"


	13. I Do

**Authors Note: OK. I apologize for the delay. This is by far the longest chapter I've written (3,017 words). Be patient with me. The flashbacks are in italics, and the real time is in regular font. **

**Chapter 13: I Do**

I smoothed the white cotton skirt, not meeting anyone's eyes. Surrounded by the low ceiling and stone walls, my stomach started knotting itself into a huge ball of worry.

The flashbacks started again, repeating the mantra of memories:

_I turned away from Michael, my mind in turmoil. All I knew was that I needed to explain to him the one thing that I had never brought up. My promise. _

_I left the house quickly, not walking, but not running either. I went down the cliff path, going to my favorite boulder. For a stone, it was comforting._

_Michael followed, a few steps behind me. "Calypso!" He shouted. "Why are you running?"_

_I turned and faced him, tears streaming down my cheeks. My features were contorted in sorrow and agony. I realized with a jolt I couldn't run away from my problems anymore. There were people that needed me, and I kept running away—letting them down._

"_You don't understand. I can't marry you!"_

Mother smiled. "You look stunning. Just a little more excitement may be what you're missing."

I smirked, and then hugged her. My tall, supple frame fit neatly around the contours of her skinny, wane bones. She was nearly 55, and her grey hair swirled softly around her shoulders. She shivered in my arms.

"_What? Why?" Michael was stricken; I could see it in his posture. _

"_I've made promises. I can't break a promise, you know that better then anyone else." I closed my eyes, waiting for an answer. It was a long time in coming._

"_What aren't you telling me?" His arms folded around me, his chin resting on my head. I leaned into him, crying. "Calypso?"_

_I met his eyes. "It's a long story, one that would take all night to explain."_

"_I'll stay. I always will, as long as you want me with you."_

_I sighed, wiping my tears away with the heel of my hand. "This whole thing started about 200 years ago, when a sea goddess ruled the oceans, and she preyed on sailors and pirates alike."_

Elizabeth Turner smiled up at me, her brown eyes alight with more then enough excitement for the both of us. "My baby girl, all grown up. Getting married."

I shook my head. "I'm not leaving you. You won't be alone."

"I'm not worried about that." Her eyes betrayed a sorrow too deep to belong to any mere mortal.

"_His name was Davey Jones, hers was Calypso. He was a Pirate Lord, she the goddess. They loved each other dearly for a time, but all things must pass, and he began to fear her. He convinced his fellow Pirate Lords to capture and bind Calypso to human form, and in doing so, transfer the dominion of the sea from her to the Pirate Lords. And they did so. They bound her in her bones. Of course, Calypso was angry."_

"_You are named after this goddess?" Michael interrupted me. _

"_Yes, I am." I stared out at the sunset, wondering if Father was watching the same sun disappear into the waves. _

"_Calypso hated Davey Jones for his betrayal, but loved him still, so she condemned him. She made it so he could only come onto dry land once every ten years, and he had to ferry the souls of those who died at sea to the other side. This was too much for the mortal Davey Jones, but he stayed at sea for ten years, ferrying souls to the other side. But when he returned to land, to meet up with Calypso again, she was not there."_

"Are you ready?" Mother asked, once again straightening my dress so it lay flat.

I shook my head, but smiled bravely. She cupped my cheek, looking deeply into my black eyes. "You remind me of your father," she whispered. "I wish he were here, to see you like this."

I nodded. "I do too. I miss him."

"_Overcome with grief, Davey Jones literally ripped out his heart and waited for death to take him to the place he had visited thousands of times before. But death would not come for Davey Jones. Calypso found him, lying on the floor, near death, and she worked to save his life. And she did, to an extent. He became a heartless immortal, and he hated Calypso for it. He took his still beating heart and locked it in a chest. When Calypso saw he was leaving her, alone, an immortal in a mortal's body, she cursed his heart. Davey Jones still had the ferry the souls of the dead, and he still could not come on land. And now, if anyone destroyed Davey Jones' still beating heart, Davey Jones would die, and the stabber would have to take his place."_

"_Calypso? What does this have anything to do with you can't marry me? Michael interrupted. His green eyes bored deep into mine, and I imagined he could see my soul through my black eyes._

"_Everything." I whispered, watching the sunset. "Everything."_

The light of noon streamed through the windows, and the light summer breeze swirled dust motes and a dance that would last forever.

My brother met me outside the doors to the church center, a small smile on his face. "Calypso."

"Jack." We had become very formal with each other. I knew, deep down, he still cared for me, but his wife, Angelica was not my biggest fan. She had turned her three children against me, and they barely knew me.

He had grown a beard and mustache since the last time we had really seen and talked to each other. I had seen him a few months ago, when I had asked him to walk me down the aisle.

"Ready?" He flashed a grin I recognized; one he had given me many times before. "Are you nervous?"

I nodded to both questions, though the last wasn't true. I wasn't nervous. I was relived beyond imagining.

"_With Calypso trapped in human form, the Pirate Lords and those they commanded ruled the seas, pillaging and murdering wherever they went. There was one Pirate Lord in particular named Captain Jack Sparrow that played a major role in this story of mine. He captained a ship called the Black Pearl, and she inspired fear wherever she went. But his mutinous first mate, Hector Barbossa, left Captain Jack Sparrow on a deserted beach and took the Pearl. For 10 years, Captain Jack Sparrow went looking for the Pearl, and Barbossa. Long story short, Jack met my parents and killed Barbossa. Jack was sentenced to hang, but my father freed him. My parents were to be married."_

_A few tears escaped me, and Michael held me tighter against his chest. I could feel his heartbeat, strong under my ear._

Jack offered me his arm, and I took it, meeting his hazel eyes. I was just a few inches shorter then him, something that made him chuckle, because neither of our parents were very tall.

Facing the large wooden doors, I was struck with a thought: I may be breaking a childhood promise, one that was made with the eagerness to please, but I was making a new on as a woman, to someone I knew better then myself.

The doors swung open as the organ began to play quietly in the background.

"_They would have been married, but a man named Lord Beckett arrested them before the ceremony. They were charged with aiding a pirate in escaping the law. But Beckett offered my father a deal to save my mothers life, and once again, Father had to find Jack Sparrow. Beckett wanted Jack Sparrow's magical compass, which could lead you to wherever or whatever you wanted most."_

_Michael laughed. "You're joking."_

_I shook my head. "It's the truth. Why would I make this up? If you ask Mother, she'll tell you the same story. May I continue?"_

_He nodded, and kissed the top of my head again. I smiled slightly, and sat down in the dry sand. He followed suit, hugging me tighter, if that was even possible. It felt like he needed something to hold onto, while I told him history that seemed like a child's tale._

"_He found Jack Sparrow, but Jack needed help finding a key to a chest. Father agreed to help Jack find this key, in exchange for the compass. They went to find a fortuneteller named Tia Dalma, who knew where the key was and where the chest was that went with it. She told them that the key was on the Flying Dutchman, Davey Jones' ship."_

"_The key went to Davey Jones' chest? With his heart in it?" Michael looked repulsed, like he was going to vomit. _

"_Yes. But all will be revealed in a few moments."_

Jack took a hesitant step forward, and I followed, my white slippers peeking out from underneath my white, floor-length skirt. I kept my eyes forward, ignoring the smiling faces of the town. There was only one face I wanted, needed to see.

Any wedding was a publicly announced event, and anyone came. The town was small, and even if we lived on the outskirts of town, we still were known by everyone. So everyone was there in their finest, as they were with any other wedding day. To them, it was all just a show—a reason to get dressed up.

I kept walking slowly, too slowly, my eyes locked with his. He smiled, and I could not help but smile back. I think, despite me feeling he would leave me because of what I had said; he wouldn't have left, no matter what I said. If I said I was dying, or pregnant, or in love with another man, or any of them, he would be all right with that. That should tell you the level at which he loved me.

It felt good to be loved.

"_My father went to the Flying Dutchman in search of Jack Sparrow's key, only to find that Davey Jones had it concealed underneath his tentacles."_

"_Tentacles?"_

"_Yes. Davey Jones had not completed the task given to him by Calypso in over 50 years. He and his crew had started to become more sea creature then human. They had tentacles, barnacles, shark heads. You name it, it grew on them. Eventually, the crew started to grow into the ship. They … became … the ship." I shook my head, shivering. The idea did not appeal to me in the least. _

"_Sounds … interesting." He grimaced. I nodded, understanding. _

"_So my father befriended one of the crew members, a man named Bootstrap Bill, who incidentally was my grandfather. My father stole the key from Davey Jones with the help of Bootstrap Bill Turner, and went back to Jack Sparrow. However, he promised his newfound father he would come back for him, and free him. But the only way to free him was to stab the heart."_

Jack freed my tight grip on his arm and squeezed it gently. "It'll be alright. Just love, and be loved. Go with the surety that Mother and I love you dearly, and if Father were here, he would tell you the same thing. He would be proud of you," he whispered, smiling.

I would have to remember to talk to him later. It seemed so odd, that he would mention Father now, of all other times he could say something about him. Jack hated Father with a passion greater then the hatred between Satan and God. Why bring that up now?

Jack handed me off to Michael, as tradition stated, and sat down a few rows behind me. The feel of Michael's rough, farming hands gave me the feeling that I was coming home. And in a way, I was.

"_In a large amount of distrust and backstabbing, Jack Sparrow and the Pearl get eaten by the Kraken after being shackled to the mast by my Mother … and then she felt guilty about it. They went to Tia Dalma, who incidentally was Calypso herself, in human form. Calypso had raised Barbossa from the dead, who lead what was left of Sparrow's crew, Father, Mother, and Calypso to the land of the dead."_

"_The land of the dead?" Michael look behind him, at my cliff-side cottage. "Your mother went to the land of the dead?"_

_I nodded, grinning. "I know. It's hard to comprehend that she actually did it." My diminutive mother, now aged, was quite a traveler when she was younger._

"Michael, son of James, do you take Calypso, daughter of Elizabeth, as your wife? Do you promise to love her and keep her safe from harm? Do you promise to stay with her, in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, and to cherish her always?" the priest asked, his blue eyes icy and challenging, as if he expected Michael to quail at what was being asked. I laughed internally, giddy.

This was almost over.

"I do, with all my body, heart, and soul, I do so promise." Michael whispered, meeting my eyes in triumph.

"_The song was sung, and the Brethren Court of the Pirate Lords were summoned to convene at Shipwreck Cove. They were to decide whether to free Calypso, and so win her appreciation in the coming battle against the British armada and the Flying Dutchman. The Brits had stolen Davey Jones' heart, and by doing so, took control of the Dutchman. Of course, the British wanted to get rid of pirates."_

"_What song?" Michael asked. _

_I smiled. "It's something Jack taught me, who learned it from Mother. It's a pirate song, one not sung lightly. If sung by a pirate about to be hanged, it is heard throughout the seas." _

_Michael looked impressed. "Interesting." I nodded, grinning again. _

"Calypso, daughter of Elizabeth, do you take Michael, son of James, as your husband? Do you promise to love him and keep him from harm? Do you promise to stay with her, in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, and to cherish him always?"

Again, the priest looked challenging, but he had been that way throughout the entire ceremony. I got the feeling that he didn't want to be here.

I smiled, gazing into Michael's water-filled eyes.

"_Barbossa as his fleet of pirates fought bravely. Captain Jack Sparrow went after Davey Jones in search of the chest and the key, which had fallen into Davey Jones' hands, or rather, claws. Sparrow wanted to become the next captain of the Dutchman, and in doing so, gain immortality. My father went to help Jack, although he wanted to free my grandfather, who was still on the Dutchman. But Davey Jones stabbed my father through the heart, and began to laugh."_

_That scene was on of my worst nightmares. My father, who had fought so bravely just moments before, was dying._

"_But Captain Jack Sparrow took my father's hand and stabbed the heart of Davey Jones."_

I squeezed Michael's hands. "I do, wherever our paths take us, I promise." I whispered, my heart in my throat. Whatever happened next, we would face it together.

We still had two years before my father came. I had time, no. We had time, and right now, it seemed like we had forever.

"Then be one, and rejoice in what God has given you." The priest drawled, looking bored. The hilarious part in this whole affair was that I wasn't Christian, and yet I had just been married in a Christian ceremony. I wanted to laugh, but Michael silenced my laughter with a swift but passionate kiss.

"_Captain Sparrow's actions made my father the Captain of the Flying Dutchman, and he had to take the duties that Davey Jones had neglected. Which is why, Michael, why I can't possibly marry you."_

"_What does that have anything to do with you? That was a long tale, and very interesting, but I don't understand." Michael frowned, his black eyebrows furrowing with confusion. _

"_Michael, you know I do not break my promises." I whispered slowly. "Last time I saw my father, almost 9 years ago, I promised I would go with him. As part of his crew on the Dutchman."_

"_Ahhh …" Michael sighed, and was silent for the longest moments of my life, but it was in actuality a short while. "I understand now. This promise you made when you were young … it is holding you back from what I know you want most." _

_His smile was hesitant, like he wasn't sure of my reaction. I nodded glumly, and settled against his shoulder as the sun disappeared over the horizon._

"_Calypso. Is it possible that you could be released from this promise?"_

_I glanced up at him, now the confused one. "Released?"_

"_Released. You don't have to break any promises, and we can be together. I'm sure your father would understand."_

"_I … I would have to think about that." I murmured slowly._

The gathering applauded, smiling, as his lips touched mine. The memories of that night faded as I forgot to breathe. This was what I wanted, to be with him for the rest of my life. I was no longer just myself, a loner waiting for her father to take her away. I was myself and Michael—we were no longer separate, but one being, with only one conscience thought.

Our happiness.

I had done what I had most feared, and had not run away from it. There, now, in the small church with its blank stone walls, I was happy, and I was free.

I just wished Father was here. He would have made this day the best day in all of my life.

**Authors Note: My next chapters will defiantly not be as long. This took me forever to write (it seems), so please please please REVIEW! **


	14. Lumps, Bumps, and Goosebumps

Once again, I apologize about the last chapter being 3000 words long. There was just so much to say! I want to dedicate this chapter to all the people in the world who have some form of cancer.

**Chapter 14: Lumps, Bumps, and Goosebumps**

I was happy as a married woman. The feeling of waking up next to someone who loved and cherished you was warmer then bread right out of the oven. Or the sun on a hot summer day. Take your pick; either way, it was a beauty unto itself.

So it was, until my happiness was disturbed by the goddess.

_CALYPSO! _The mental shout startled me out of my dreams into the awkward half-asleep moment. _Come oudside. Me musd speak do you._

I groaned quietly, careful not to wake Michael up. He muttered something in his sleep, then rolled over. I smiled, then grabbed a cloak and wrapped it around me as I stepped out into the cold summer morning.

Our house. It was new, a gift from Michael's father. He had it built on the edge of his plot of land, right on the cliff. It was only a few miles from my mothers cottage.

Calypso smiled at me from the edge of the cliff, showing decaying teeth behind black lips. I joined her, goose bumps forming on my arms. I hugged myself, unconsciously folding my arms around my stomach protectively.

"Long time, no see," I whispered, shivering. "I was beginning to think that you had left me for some other unfortunate soul."

"Never. Dis nod my nadure do leave." 

I laughed quietly, because it wasn't true. It WAS her nature to leave. "What do you want, Calypso? I was having a really good dream, for once. One of my own making."

She smiled. "You appreciaded my dreams, once. Before you med dis Michael."

"No need to remind me." I rolled my eyes, watching the sun peek out from the horizon.

"Calypso. Go see your moder today. Dell her she needs to hold on, for anoder year."

"What?" I asked, but she vanished. The sun came up, turning the sky the color of blood.

_~*~The Dutchman~*~_

"I'll be back in a little while," I said. Michael raised his eyebrows, his green eyes questioning. "I haven't seen my mother in a while." I offered as an explanation.

Michael nodded. "I'll meet you in town. You're vegetables always sell well."

I smiled, kissed his cheek, then headed down the cliff-side road. I sang as I walked the long way to my childhood home.

"_The king and his men  
>Stole the queen from her bed<br>And bound her in her bones_

_The seas be ours  
>And by the powers<br>Where we will, we'll roam_

_Yo-ho  
>all hands<br>Hoist the colors high_

_Heave-ho  
>Thieves and beggars<br>Never shall we die"_

That song made more sense to me now then it had before. I actually understood the story behind it.

Elizabeth Turner appeared in the doorway, her sewing basket hooked over her arm. She smiled, and the creases in her skin bunched and fell. I was stuck, again, how old she had become.

Soft white hair fell to her waist, and her dress hung loosely on boney shoulders. Laugh lines marked her face deeply, but her brown eyes shone just as bright as they did when I was a child.

"What brings you back?" she asked, smiling, but the smile was pained. She knew something was up, I could tell. I had lived with her for seventeen years; I knew every face she ever made. She was in pain.

"This and that." I shrugged, grinning back, not letting the look on her face ruin my sudden good mood. "Making sure you're all right."

"I'm fine—Ow." She winced when I hugged her tightly. "You've always held on too tightly, my giant of a child."

I apologized, looking down at my feet. Mother laughed, then ushered me inside.

_~*~The Dutchman~*~_

We worked all morning, plying our needles, for all the fact that I really had no skill with fabric. But she tired easily, so I helped her with a few of her ongoing projects.

"I've got news," I said sitting behind a large mound of cotton fabric. Peeking around it, I grinned. "Really, really good news."

"Oh?" Mother raised her still-brown eyebrows high. "What?" 

"I'm pregnant."

Mother's smile could have come off her face and reached the skies, if that was possible. She jumped up and hugged me fiercely. "Do me a favor, Calypso," she whispered, excitement in her voice. "Name him William."

I nodded into her shoulder. "I promise, if Michael agrees." 

"You haven't told him?" She looked surprised.

I shook my head, and she laughed. I joined her, laughing until my sides hurt.

"I too have news, but not nearly as exciting as yours," my mother said, suddenly serious. She eased herself back into the chair, and picked up her needle. _Plunk, plunk, plunk_.

"Mother?"

"Do you remember how George's wife died? With that growth?"

I nodded. Mary, George's wife, had died not too long ago. She was a nice woman; she had always given me some sort of pastry when I had come by her house every once and a while. Mary had a growth in her breasts that had ultimately consumed her, making it so that she couldn't breathe properly.

"I found the same thing," she rushed to say. "Same place."

My euphoric mood plummeted, and I remembered what Calypso had mentioned only this morning. _"Dell her she needs do hold on, for anoder year."_

"No," I whispered. "How?"

"I don't know," she whispered back. "It's not that big, but Mary …"

I nodded, pursing my lips tightly to control them. Tears began to form behind my eyes.

"Calypso …" she whispered. "This doesn't change anything."

I got up and sat back down on the arm of her chair. She wrapped her arms around my waist, and I started to cry. She laid her head on my belly, and her thin shoulders shook.

Life for life, but it wasn't fair. She shouldn't have to die. And if Calypso was right, Mother would die without seeing my father again.

She would die without him, her soul mate. That made me cry all the harder.


	15. Growing, and Then Not

**Chapter 15: Growing, and Then Not**

Michael was sad with the news that I brought him. He was very, very fond of my mother. He insisted on going to her house alone to talk her. I made dinner while he was gone.

He came back with tears streaked on his cheeks. "Oh God."

I nodded, stirring the pot. "I told you about my odd connection with the sea goddess, right?"

"Yeah, why?" He stared at me, eyes empty.

"She came this morning. Woke me up."

"What did she say?"

I laughed quietly. "Nothing new, really. She told me to talk to my mother, and tell her to hold on for another year." I sighed, not pleased.

"What happens in a year?" Michael eyes widened when I spun around and pointed my wet wooden spoon at him.

"What happens? What happens?" I was surprised that he didn't remember. "I'm turning twenty, and my father is coming!"

"Oh."

I rolled my eyes, exasperated. "And by that time, we'll have a child of our own to raise. I was thinking of naming him William, if that's all right with you?"

"Wait wait wait!… what? You're pregnant?" He sounded doubtful, but excited at the same time. He came up behind me and hugged me from behind, kissing my neck. "Are you serious?"

I nodded, leaning into him. "Yes."

"Oh Calypso! A child!"

I laughed, then brushed him off. "If you want to eat, you better let me finish this."

He just smiled, kissed me, then went to wash his hands, whistling an aimless tune. He was pleased, I could tell.

I sighed, an odd mix of emotions circulating through me. My mother was dying, and I had a speck of life growing inside me. I hoped, hoped that she would be able to see her grandchild, at least once.

_**Five months later …**_

The sunset was beautiful, I noted as I fell to my knees. Michael shouted my name, but the shout faded. I could feel the sand beneath my cheek, and my eyes were filled with redness. With a chocked sigh of relief, I slid happily into the darkness of my mind.

I did not think. I did not feel. I did not want to do either.

There was darkness, and there was no pain. There was freedom.

I woke slowly in my own bed, feeling strangely empty. Michael's face swam in front of my eyes, blurry and indistinct.

"What happened?" I managed to croak out quietly. I could barely hear myself.

"Oh Calypso," Michael whispered, cupping my cheek with one large hand. "The child …"

Franticly, I put my hand on my stomach. To my imeance horror, it was flat.

"No. No, no, no, nonononononononono," I whispered, patting my sore abdomen. "No."

"I'm so sorry, love. Our little William didn't make it."

Tears chocked me, and I let out a sob. Its intensity startled Michael, but he lay down next to me as I cried myself to sleep.

The oblivion was bittersweet. The child, our William, featured in many of my dreams for a very long time.


	16. Back

**Chapter 16: Back**

It took forever it seemed, for the rest of the year to pass.

I tried so hard to get over my miscarriage, and on top of that, my mothers' health was getting worse quickly.

The lump in her breast kelp getting more and more painful. She got so tired so quickly. She barely ate, barely slept. She was dying.

I worried that she wouldn't be able to make it to the time my father came back from the high seas. But then again, she had something to hold on to. Her husband and soulmate, who would come any day now.

Michael and I were staying at my childhood home when the green flash came and a ship appeared on the horizon.

"Stay with Mother," I whispered to my husband, who was watching over Mother while she slept. "I'm going to the beach. He's here."

Michael nodded, smiling slightly. I left, going down the familiar path. One I had traveled so many times before.

It was like a repeat of a memory, of when I was 9, sitting perched on a rock, watching my mother laugh for the first time in years.

Now I stood alone on the beach, watching the lone man in the dingy row his way to shore. Now I stood alone, a small, wane smile barely etched on my face as William Turner tied up his boat and came to me.

"Calypso," he murmured, hugging me tightly. I embraced him back with equal force. "You've grown! You're almost taller then I am!" He whispered, laughing.

I nodded slightly. "I'm married too." I said, still in his arms.

He drew back, holding my shoulders and searching my face with his coal black eyes. Crows feet decorated the corners of his eyes, and lines framed his mouth. Faint, fainter then mothers, but still there. He had not aged, it seemed, or at least, not as quickly as his wife.

"Are you happy?" was all he said. I nodded emphatically. "Yes, yes I am very happy. His name is Michael."

"Michael. I will have to meet this Michael that has stolen my daughters heart."

Like your father stole yours? I wanted to ask, but figured I wouldn't bring that up. "Mother and Michael are both in the house. Mother … "

"What?" Father asked sharply, his black eyes searching, probing. They might have been a little scared.

"Come." I took his hand and led him wordlessly up the cliff path.

He plagued me with questions, ones I did not answer. All I said was, "You'll see." And see he would.

We entered the dimly lit house. It was spotless, not a speck of dust or dirty dishes anywhere. I had developed a habit of cleaning when I was anxious.

Captain Turner looked around, all the while heading to my mothers bedroom. He moved quickly, but seemingly unaware of what he was doing.

I stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Michael rose from the rocking chair next to the bed, nodded to my father, then joined me in the doorway. Father had nodded to Michael, then turned to his wife, soulmate, and keeper of his still-beating heart.


	17. All Good Things Pass

A/N: I'm sorry for the delay! I realize it's summer, but I keep having to do other things, and when I have the time to type, I keep getting writers block! Also, this is a very emotional chapter. I wish I didn't have to do it, but that's what happens when you have a plan for the next few chapters … I will try not to keep you guys waiting too long for the next, and possibly the last, chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own PotC. I just wish I did.

**Chapter 17: All Good Things Pass **

It was then that my mother woke up. She stared into her husbands eyes, putting the smallest of smiles on her face. He smiled back at her, but there were tears running down his face.

"I knew you'd come. I could feel it, in my bones," she said, whispering haltingly. "I was waiting for you."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner. But Calypso …"

At the mention of her name, the goddess appeared behind my father. She raised one dark finger to her blackened lips, smiling with her rotting teeth.

"_Stay silent,"_ she whispered in my mind. _"You are de ondy one who can see meh."_

I growled internally, cursing her. But I obeyed, as I always did. I could not defy her; I did not know her full power. And judging from my past dreams, her power was immense, and her moods as shifting as the sands under the tides.

Michael squeezed my hand tightly, in tune with my emotions, as he always was.

Elizabeth nodded weakly. "I … understand, Will. Ten years cannot pass soon enough."

My father sat on the bed, holding her hand gingerly and nodding. "Elizabeth …" he whispered, and it filled with pleading and longing. I saw the constant dripping of tears falling from his beard onto her hands as he held her hands to his lips. "I don't want to lose you! A world without you is not worth living in."

Mother smiled weakly, tears falling from the corners of her eyes onto her pillow. " Will … I could say the same to you," she whispered back.

My heart wrenched against my rib cage, and I felt like an intruder on this scene of passionate love. And yet, I could not tear my eyes away. The love between them, the sorrow too, was almost palpable.

Calypso bent over Elizabeth in a kind, matronly manner, and pushed her white hair back gently. Michael's head snapped up, so I assumed everybody could see her now. My parents did not break eye contact, despite her sudden appearance.

"Is dime do go," Calypso said gently. "Led id go. Stop fighting id."

With that command, Elizabeth Turner, former fierce Captain and Pirate King, turned caring mother of two and grandmother of four, let out her final breath. Her eyes dimmed, her tears stopped, her hands went limp. The only thing that stayed was her grateful smile and her eyes locked on her husband and soul mate's eyes.

And with that command, the Captain of the Flying Dutchman, William Turner, let out an anguished howl loud enough to wake the dead, as if his sorrow could bring her back to life in his arms.

I closed my eyes and began to sob into Michael's shoulder.

I did not notice it when Calypso kissed my hair and disappeared.


	18. Sacrifice

**Chapter 18: Sacrifice**

We buried her that night.

The moon and stars gleamed that night – it was perfect weather for a wedding. But we were having a funeral instead.

My mother's garden, the one I had weeded for countless years of my childhood, lay in a pile next to the deep hole my father and my husband had finished digging a few minutes before.

Father brought her out, cradling her in his arms. Tears may have carved tracks in the remnants of the dirt on his face, but he did not falter as he climbed into the grave. Gently, he laid his wife into the ground and arranged her body. She looked as if she was sleeping as he kissed her lips one last time.

"Elizabeth … I'll join you soon enough. That I can promise," he whispered. I don't think he meant us to hear that, but chills went up by spine when I realized what he meant.

I stepped forward, scooped up a handful of rich, garden dirt, and looked down at her. Memories flooded though my mind: us waiting for my father to come ten years ago, my arguments with her about stupid things, Jacks wedding, my wedding, Jack Sparrow's arrival, us laughing together when we both completely mess up our sewing projects … Laughter infused with giggling and even more laughter. That was who my mother was, in the end. A laughing woman with two headstrong children, just like the other half of her soul.

"You'll be here, always. You'll always be in my heart. Forever and always." I let the dirt trickle from between my fingers, letting it hit her folded hands.

Michael paid his respects next, and was silent as his handful of dirt dropped into the grave.

Father was silent as well.

I suppose there wasn't much to be said. What needed to be said had already been said. It would have been redundant.

Dirt was lifted over her body, as if by invisible workers. Calypso appeared and gave her last respects, while the ghosts of fallen mermaids filled the grave.

_~*~The Flying Dutchman~*~_

"I need to leave soon. Sunset is almost here." My father paused, frowning slightly. "Calypso, I … I know that you probably don't want to … but … come with me. Please."

I sighed, glancing at Michael. "Father … You do know what you are asking me to do, right? Leave everything behind – my home, my brother, my husband …"

"I know. I know. It's just … I want you … to be … to be captain after me." It spilled out of his mouth quickly, as his last request had ten years ago. My eyes widened.

"But, that would mean …"

"That I would die. Die at your hands," my father finished for me.

"Yes. I cannot." Tears had been shed, and new ones began to form. "I can't kill you. You're my father, and I love you."

I glanced at Michael again, unhappy. I sighed, thinking rapidly.

If … what if … If when how why I don't know should would could be captain I don't know how why can I should I would I shouldn't Michael a family but wait no I can't children are out of the question I don't know how Jack Michael time family love leave them all I don't know I don't know not enough time decisions quickly bloody hell I DON'T KNOW

"Calypso," Michael said. "We've discussed this before. You know where I stand." His voice was strangled, sad.

I closed my eyes and nodded. "I know Michael. I know."

I got up suddenly, and with courage almost nonexistent, went to my mother's room. Reaching under her bed, my fingers met hard wood and vibrations emanated from it. I brought it to the table and lay my knife next to the chest. It was the knife I was given on my tenth birthday.

"Here," I whispered. "You hold the last piece."


	19. The Last Day

I want to offer my sincerest apologies. I have been lax with this story, and have not updated it in what seems like forever. I apologize.

This is not the end. I have, at the most, two more chapters planned.

**Chapter 19: The Last Day**

I followed my father down the trail in a daze, ignoring the pleading voice of Calypso in my mind. She reminded me of every happy memory I ever had, every moment I had wished had never ended.

My marriage. My mother tugging at the braids in my hair when I was six. Meeting Michael. Feeling my baby kick for the first time. Holding my first nephew. Working in the garden. Laying on the sand with the sun shinning on my face. Being in love.

You bedrayed me! she screamed in my mind. You bedrayed your broder, your husband!

I shuddered and let a few tears escape. But she was wrong, I betrayed no one. There would be no betrayals tonight.

Only the honoring of a promise and the lives of my parents.

Calypso, in her tattered yellow dress and bead necklaces stood next to the little boat on the shore. My father smiled a tired smile, touching her cheek gently. She smiled, leaning into his hand, then disappeared.

I felt the breeze caress my hair and ruffle my simple dress as my father and I pushed the boat off the sand into the water.

We both rowed, making good time to the Flying Dutchman. My goddess whispered a sweet tune in my ear, as we got closer to the ship.

_The king and his men  
>Stole the queen from her bed<br>And bound her in her bones_

_The seas be ours  
>And by the powers<br>Where we will, we'll roam_

_Yo-ho  
>all hands<br>Hoist the colors high_

_Heave-ho  
>Thieves and beggars<br>Never shall we die_

I shivered, still in a daze, as the song echoed in my ears and I boarded my new home.

"Who's that?" a young man asked as I stood on the deck with my father.

"My daughter, Calypso." Will grabbed my hand and started leading me to the captain's quarters.

"Bad luck to have a woman on board," the man muttered behind our backs.

"There just may be a day where a woman on board will be your only option, Joseph. They have just as much right to be here as you do. If they have the skills necessary to keep you men in line, one might become a captain. You don't remember the last Pirate King," he retorted, laughing. "But she was a wild one, a capable leader."

Joseph looked confused. "Wha …"

"You captain speaks of his wife, you lackwit." A much older man clapped his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "King Elizabeth Turner. My daughter-in-law." The old man laughed at Joseph's expression of shock.

"Mister Turner," Will said, his face suddenly serious. I squeezed his rough hand in reassurance, and glanced down at me. His eyes told me all I needed to know—his thankfulness, sorrow, and regret.

"Captain," the older man stated quietly.

"Come."

_**~*~The Dutchman~*~**_

"So, that is why you have brought the chest, and my granddaughter here? You would have me do this deed?"

"Yes," my father confirmed. "I would."

"You've become weak," Bootstrap Bill muttered.

"Perhaps. But that changes nothing. I wish this, and Calypso has agreed."

"Both of them? You know the Lady of the Sea will not be happy."

"She has agreed, though she is not pleased," I mentioned from behind the desk. I had kept my head down as they had discussed the manner and transfer of power my father's death would leave behind. I followed the coastline of the mainland with a finger. "She does not understand why, but the goddess is willing to see it done. A change from the conversation we had earlier. She was not happy at all then."

"It is settled then," Father declared.

"It would seem that way," Bill murmured hesitantly.

"Come back after nightfall. Calypso and I have much to discuss."


	20. New Life and Old Love

This is not the last chapter; there will be one more!

**Chapter 20: New Life and Old Love**

I do not want to torture you with what happened next. I do believe that would be too cruel.

Suffice it to say, I passed out soon the sailors began to cut into my chest.

My last memory as a mortal was staring at my father as he smiled and died before my eyes. He was happy in death, and that was worth all the pain.

_**~*~The Dutchman~*~**_

I woke up in my fathers, no, my, cabin. On my bed. In my quarters.

Groaning, I sat up.

The scarring was obvious, though the reddish purple hue would fade over time. My clothes were covered in dried blood—my own, I presumed.

Sighing, I got up and went to the chest at the end of the bed, finding clothes that smelled of salt and sweat and my father, and they looked like they would fit. I was tall and skinny enough, anyway.

Skirt and shirt went off, and a new shirt went on. I had been wearing pants under my skirt, a habit I had indulged in since before Jack's wedding. Thankfully, they had not been ruined.

I stared for a long time at the desk, with the tiny chest sitting so innocently on it. The key lay next to it, a cord wrapped around its handle. I put the key around my neck, then went out to meet my crew.

Bootstrap Bill stood at the door to my cabin, hand raised as if to knock.

I raised my eyebrows, head tilted to the side, with a faint smile on my lips. "Is there a problem, Mister Turner?"

He took a moment to recover, then responded: "Not really, Captain Calypso. Just found this rat swimming out to the ship. Relative of yours?"

I looked beyond my grandfather, curious. And there he was, my husband. Michael, dripping wet and kneeling on the deck, hands bound and a sword at his neck.

"Ah, yes, Mister Turner, he is indeed a relative of mine. In fact, he's my husband."

"Calypso!" Michael called. "I'm really not in a mood to die tonight …"

"Let him go," I told Bootstrap Bill. "I know why he's here, and am inclined to accept his request."

"Oh." My grandfather frowned, unsure of what I was talking about. "What request?"

"I wish to join your crew, Captain, here, aboard the _Flying Dutchman_," Michael finally made it known as he stood and rubbed his wrists. 

"That request, Mister Turner." I nodded at the rest of my motley, small crew. "I daresay we can find a use for him, can we not?"

"Aye, Captain." A sly smile appeared on the older mans face. "And will he be sleeping below?"

I gave my grandfather a charming smile. "I sincerely doubt it."

So began my tenure as the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_.


	21. Ten Years Later

So, here's the last chapter. I hope you like it.

**Chapter 21: Ten Years Later**

I stepped onto the familiar shoreline of my childhood home. There was the boulder I had spent countless hours resting on, the one I had met and lost and met again the man I had called father. There was the trail that lead up to my mothers house.

Michael clasped my free hand as we walked up the cliff, past the ruins of my childhood home, past the garden where my parents' bodies were buried, past the farm Michael had grown up on.

Our final destination: my brothers' home.

I freed my hand from Michaels and knocked. It was almost noon on a weekend, Jack was sure to be home.

A little girl answered the door; she could have been no more than nine. Her brown eyes grew large, then she disappeared into the house.

She reappeared with my brother in tow.

Now aged forty, he looked well. The smallest amount of gray touched his temples.

"Calypso? Michael?" His face was one of complete disbelief as he stared at us.

I smiled. "Jack."

He crushed us in a hug that was both desperate and grateful. "I thought you were dead, Calypso! Where have you been for the past ten years!?"

"It is a long story. Suffice it to say, I would have come sooner, but the curse of the Flying Dutchman kept me from these shores," I responded wryly.

"Captain. You. Are. Captain?" Jack said slowly. "Come inside. You have a lot of explaining to do."

So explain we did. We traded stories and scars like we had traded chores so many years ago. Jack was particularly interested and disgusted by the scar on my chest that had left me literally heartless.

"And I assume this little one is yours, Michael?" Jack asked later, bouncing my year and a half old daughter, Calypso, on his knee.

"Of course." Michael glared at my brother as I laughed quietly.

"Jack. I cannot raise my daughter on a ship that ferries those that die at sea to the other side. She needs the company of people her own age, not crude sailors."

"You want me to raise her," Jack stated, thick black eyebrows raised.

"As much as it pains me, I could think of no better option. I would ask this of you only because I trust you. We trust you." I clasped Michael's hand in mine, pleading with my older brother in my green eyes.

"And you will come back, in ten years."

"Yes. But not to take her away. Only to see the woman she will become."

"Of course. Yes, I will take in Calypso, little sister. Odd, though. You named her after the goddess that is the cause of your curse," Jack remarked, smiling as she grabbed his long hair.

"We named her after the sea where she was born, after my greatest helper and friend," I clarified. "It matters not that the curse lives on, only that my daughter will live without it. I will find another to take this after me, if it is my time to die. One of the benefits to being cursed—immortality."

"Benefit or curse, I could never imagine living forever," Jack stated emphatically.

"And that is why it is I that is Captain, not you."

Jack laughed. "Of course."

Michael stood and went to the window. "Sunset. It will be here in two hours, and we have to walk back to the ship."

I nodded, smiling tiredly. "Do you have a pen and ink? I need to finish something."

And so I wrote my letter to my little Calypso on the first of many pages:

_Dearest little one, _

_There will be a time where you will wonder where you got those green eyes of yours, where you got your unusual name, where you got your height, for I do believe you will be tall. _

_The people who raised you, they are not your parents. The man you called father all these years is, in fact, your uncle, my brother. _

_Your father, Michael, and myself, your mother, had to let you grow up with your uncle and aunt. It was not because we did not love you or did not want you, it was necessity. _

_You see, your father and I live on a ship. You've probably heard of it: _The Flying Dutchman_. I am her Captain; your father is her first mate. _

_All will be explained in all the pages that follow this letter. If you have any questions, ask your uncle, he knows the stories as well as I do. _

_We will come and visit you when you are halfway through your eleventh year. That is a promise._

_Keep a weather eye on the horizon,_

_Captain Calypso, daughter of Elizabeth_

_First-Mate Michael, son of James_

Jack had left as soon as I had started writing. I glanced at Michael as he held our daughter, smiling.

"Are you almost finished?" Michael asked.

"Almost. Do you think she will understand? Understand why we have to do this?"

"I hope so."

"The goddess once told me, long ago, that one day the _Dutchman_ would have a daughter. I wasn't sure, until now."

"What do you mean, love?" Michael asked, raising his eyebrows.

"The _Flying Dutchman_ has had a daughter. Not a daughter of wood and canvas, but a real daughter. One that stood for all that she believed in, one that endured the same way she did. Believed in doing what was right, believed in happiness and love. One that endured the trials and came through worse for wear, but still survived. "

"You."

"I hope so. Because if the true Daughter of the Dutchman is our little girl, I could not bear it. I do not want her to suffer as I did," I whispered, crying.

Michael smiled and wiped away my tears. "We have to go. It is almost sunset."

I held my daughter one last time before I handed her over to Jack. I also gave him a stack of papers, saying: "These are for her to read, when you deem her old enough. Before we come back, but when you deem her ready."

He agreed, and Michael and I both cried as we walked back to our ship.

My heart was filled with sorrow. I did not want to leave, I did not want to have to leave my daughter behind.

But I had been cursed.

I had been cursed to live an eternity at sea, ferrying the souls of the dead to the other side.

I had been cursed to become the Daughter of the Dutchman since birth, that much I knew.

There had been no other way.

Fate had played her hand.

Now it was my turn to play with what I had been dealt.

**A/N:** This is my first multichapter fanfic that I've ever completed. It would be awesome if you would review it, tell me what you liked and what you didn't like, what parts you were confused with, etc. I'll attempt to answer any questions you have about it.

Many thanks to those who have stuck with it since the beginning, almost a year ago. I couldn't have done it without you.

I'm thinking about doing a sequel to this one … perhaps. Tell me in a review or private message if you want to see more of Calypso, Michael, and others … a splash of Jack Sparrow, excuse me, Captain Jack Sparrow, perhaps?


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